


Evelyn's Memories

by Willowflower_Waterlily



Series: I Promised You Forever (Evelyn and Malcolm Hawke series 3) [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 03:56:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4651317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willowflower_Waterlily/pseuds/Willowflower_Waterlily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Evelyn's parents died, she was taken in by a clan of Dalish. After a chance encounter with a man who is strangely familiar to her, she begins to have shadowy dreams of things she can't quite remember. A gravestone pulls her toward what she lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evelyn's Memories

The inn keeper sets a pint in front of Evelyn, smiling at her. “Ever going to rejoin society, Eve?”

“Only for the occasional drink, Bart.” Evelyn smirks at the man as he chuckles at her. She absent mindedly plays with a strand of her long wavy strawberry blonde hair, glancing at herself in the mirror behind the bar. Her light blue eyes, and high cheek bones remind Evelyn of her mother. She says a silent prayer for her parents before she starts to drink.

It had been nearly a decade since her parents died of the illness that spread throughout their village. Lothering never fully recovered from the blight, even after it became habitable again. Evelyn was only thirteen at the time, and the Chantry wanted to take her in. They saw how talented she was with a blade.

Instead of going with them, she ran, leaving all that was left of her life with her parents behind. Evelyn wanted no part of the Chantry. She would never become a Templar.

“You know it’s a bad idea to get that lost in thought.” A man’s voice makes her jump. Turning to face him, a scowl firmly set on her face, she involuntarily gasps at him. His deep brown eyes that anyone could easily lose themselves in, jet black hair, and deadly smirk all seem so familiar, but Evelyn can’t place where she had seen him before.

“Can I buy you another?” The man nods down at her empty pint. Evelyn shakes her head, and stands.

“I was about to leave. Thank you though.” Evelyn turns, leaving the bar. She can hear Bart telling the man he’s wasting his time on her, and she smiles. It’s been a while since she caught anyone’s eye.

 

Carrying a slain goat over her shoulders, Evelyn nods at the elves guarding the camp. They smile at her, calling her lethallan in greeting before returning to their conversation. Evelyn smiles at an older elf, as she sets the goat down to be butchered. She gets closer to the fire, and listens as the story teller masterfully weaves a tale for the children. Closing her eyes, she can see the images come to life, down to the details of the clothing and the eyes of the Dread Wolf.

Silence makes Evelyn open her eyes again. The children had gone, the Keeper is standing by the fire instead. She motions for Evelyn to join her. “There is something different about you tonight, da’len.”

“There was a man at the inn. He seemed familiar, but I never met him before.” Evelyn turns her gaze from the Keeper to the fire, still seeing the familiar stranger’s face in her mind’s eye. It bothers her that she can’t remember where she met him. Her memory has always been so sharp. She can still remember everything about her parents, even though they’ve been gone so long.

The Keeper’s hand on her arm makes her look in the elf’s direction again. “You will remember when the time is right.” Her words and the expression on her face make Evelyn shiver, goosebumps rising on her skin.

 

Evelyn tosses and turns, her dreams becoming more troubled as the days pass. Nothing fully takes shape, hidden behind smoke. Voices call out to her, but their words are garbled. Evelyn runs down the path in front of her, the only way she can see, walls of darkness on either side of her. A small grave makes her stop. She locks her legs so she doesn’t fall forward. Evelyn’s heart clenches and a lump forms in her throat. She reaches out to touch the stone, but she can’t. Something seems to break in her, but Evelyn doesn’t understand what it means. Why does this grave pain her so? Whose is it? Where is it? Tears roll down her cheeks, ignored as she stares down at the small triangle shaped stone with an H carved into it.

Waking with a start, Evelyn finds a small bag set beside her bedroll with a note. _The time has come. Go south to the Inquisitor’s village._ Evelyn sets the parchment down, dread settling in the pit of her stomach. She feels someone watching her. Looking up, Evelyn meets the Keeper's gaze. They nod at one another, a wordless understanding passing between them. Evelyn gets up and prepares for her trip.

 

Stopping at a family plot set just outside the small town, Evelyn shudders when she reads the family name, Rutherford wrought in iron over the entrance. Bowing her head, she whispers, “I’m sorry,” and is unsure why she did. Entering the small graveyard, her feet take her to the last three stones. Reading the names on them and dates, tears well up in her eyes. Evelyn touches the stone for a woman named Mia. She jerks her hand back when the stone seems to shock her.

A woman’s voice calls out to her sons. Evelyn spins on her heels, to face where the voice had come from, her heart racing. She knows that voice, she’s heard it before. Evelyn embraces herself, trying to combat the chills that have come over her. She glances back at the gravestones one last time before heading into the village.

Evelyn is surprised at how well maintained the village is, despite the fact that it was never fully repopulated after the fifth blight. Only two families moved into the area, and after they were attacked no one else wanted to settle there. It is more often referred to as the Inquisitor’s Village than Honnleath now. It was where the savior of Thedas, her namesake, defended the world from a group of madmen for the last time.

She makes a beeline for the house furthest from her. Evelyn stops a yard from the house, staring blindly at the ground. Sinking to her knees, Evelyn presses her hands onto the ground in front of her as she sobs. Guilt squeezes her heart, but she isn’t sure why.

The image of a woman with curly blond hair and golden brown eyes appears in her mind. The woman smiles sadly at her. “Get up Evelyn, you’re almost there. Remember us.”

Standing up, Evelyn wipes her eyes with the palms of her hands. She runs past the house she was heading towards and down the trail behind it. Stopping short at the end of the trail, Evelyn is overwhelmed by the sight of the lone house and the lake in front of it. She’s been here, Evelyn is certain of it. Spinning around to take everything in, she feels like she should expect people to come out of the house to see her. People she loves with all her heart, but when no one does Evelyn’s heart aches. Swallowing the lump that formed in her throat, she walks around until she finds a second path.

Entering a clearing lined with berry bushes, Evelyn finds herself standing in front of the grave from her dreams. She shivers as a chill goes down her spine. The urge to turn and run away makes her freeze in place for a moment. Evelyn fights herself, forcing her feet to move forward. Feeling as though she’s being watched, she looks around and sees no one.

Evelyn’s heart pounds in her chest as she kneels in front of the small grave. She reaches out to touch the stone, her hand shaking. Evelyn gasps, doubling over when her hand makes contact with the small stone. A lifetime of memories invades her mind, flashing images of a painful childhood with uncaring parents, but a loving great-aunt who taught her everything she knew. Evelyn looks down at her left hand, almost expecting to see the anchor glowing green. She was the Inquisitor, the savior of Thedas. The years as Inquisitor go through her mind next. Memories of pain and victory feel as though they will tear her apart, heart and soul.

A solitary man is all she sees now, his back turned toward her. When he faces her, a sob escapes her throat. It’s him, the man she met at the inn, and she remembers him now. He was her everything, her whole world, him and their children. Memories of nearly twenty-one years of marriage flood her mind, the births of all four children, raising them, loving them and him. Gripping the stone with both hands she cries uncontrollably, for her family, for everything she missed because she died, and for Malcolm. An unbearable pain surges through her, laced with guilt. His grief killed him, he died because of her.

“No…” Evelyn whispers, begging the stone to stop. She sees her eldest daughter visiting the stone, crying, blaming herself for it all. “Leandra!” Evelyn bellows when her daughter is attacked. Helplessness consumes her as she watches her baby girl collapse, her blood pooling beneath her. Letting go of the gravestone, Evelyn faints. Her tears water the earth beneath her as she lies unconscious beside her long dead husband’s grave.


End file.
